Dead Hearts
by zombievomit
Summary: Tragedy hits J.S Thompson High. It brings people together. It tears people apart, forever. Eventual Dasey.
1. Prologue

I came up with this idea on a whim. I have never done a dramatic story for Life With Derek, or submitted any thing finished for that matter. I hope you like this. If any characters seem OOC, it is just how I imagine they would act in a tragic situation.

And yes, it's a Dasey.

I own nothing but this story.

Enjoy.

* * *

><p>When it happens, there is only one word you can count on hearing, everywhere you go.<p>

Tragedy.

The word in itself feels fake. Tragedy. You want to tell them it isn't a tragedy. It's something more heart wrenching, more like a guttural scream. This is your heart on display, dying for everyone to see.

And they're in your face searching for your description, your opinion on this 'tragedy' but, you can't even find a word in existence to help them wrap their minds around what has happened.

'_Casey! Casey MacDonald! Ms. MacDonald!'_

How do they know my name? It's the only thing I can think of.

What do they want me to say? Do they expect me to say anything? Could I if I tried?

Mom walks me to the car, her winter coat draped over my shoulders. The idea of even walking by myself seems impossible. The reporters attack the car and when the door shuts it hits me like slap to the face.

The silence.

* * *

><p>"And you knew the shooter Ms. Macdonald?" Officer Lawson asks me. His face is stern, but the pain and sorrow are clear in his eyes.<p>

"Yes. We were friends, I thought." I can't directly look at him for too long without feeling sick to my stomach. The realization is too much to handle.

"Was the shooter acting at all suspicious in the weeks surrounding this event?"

That sentence made me seethe.

"What event?" I mumbled.

"Pardon?" the officer asked, genuinely confused.

"What 'event'?" I asked him, looking directly in his eyes.

"The shooting." Lawson answered, trying to steady his voice. I know it was hard for him too but, in the moment, I just could not handle it all.

"Oh, so it 's an 'event now?'" I said, my eyes steady and voice filled with heartache. "What, like a bake sale or a cheerleader car wash? I wasn't aware that school events now included a body count officer! Well I'll just go and warn my friends to wear bulletproof vests next time! Except I can't do that for most of them can I sir?"

With every sentence I got more and more angry until I was screaming. I just couldn't take it anymore. I could feel the tears I had been holding in roll hot down my face.

Officer Lawson pushed the tissue box towards me.

"Casey…trust me, I'm hurting too. I can't imagine how hard this must be for you, but we need to get your statement on what occurred yesterday so that we can prevent something like this from ever happening again."

I wiped my eyes. It did no good, the tears always came down.

"Officer, I have no problem complying. But this was not an event, it's a nightmare. If you want me to explain I can't listen to or use these protocol terms."

"Okay, tell us what happened in your words. You talk, we film. If I need clarifying, I will interject with questioning. As a person, not a cop."

I smiled as well as I could manage. Smiles from Casey MacDonald were a rare currency lately.

"I went to school early on Wednesday to put the finishing touches on my History project…"

_To be continued..._


	2. Winter Bones

I hope you enjoyed the prologue, or at the very least it intrigued you to ready more.

The first shot is fired in this chapter.

I still do not own anything.

* * *

><p>I waited at the doors of J.S Thompson High.<p>

The sky was cloudy and dark. Just an unpleasant winter day all in all.

It was 5 am on a Wednesday, and yes, I know that the school doesn't open until 6:30, even for early birds and teachers. But Gary the janitor and I had an agreement. He let me in early to study and I helped to create a recycling program for the school. Gary was surprisingly green, despite his janitorial status.

Once he opened the doors for me, I made my way to my History classroom to put the finishing touches on my World History project. We had each picked an ancient civilization to make a diorama of. I had to finish it at school because the last time I had a project involving a diorama, Derek used it as a hockey target. The time before that was purple day and Marti spilled grape juice on it.

By the time I was done gluing all the little Egyptians to their assigned places and making sure everything was perfect, I could hear the students filing in. I left the diorama on the shelf and walked to my locker.

Emily was waiting for me, her back against our locker.

"Let me guess, you came in before sunrise to finish your project?" she asked.

"You know me too well Em." I answered just as I was going to put in our combination.

"Well, I think you'd like to know that your step-brother is staring over here like he put something in our locker, so I wouldn't-"

Too late.

Confetti blasted out at me from the top shelf. It was everywhere, in my hair, on my clothes, all over my face. As usual everyone was laughing. I still don't understand how Derek's grade school pranks make everyone laugh so much, maybe I never will. The prankster himself sauntered over just as Emily was helping me get the tiny bits of paper out of my hair.

"Good party, Case?" Derek said, with that infamous smirk smeared across his face.

"Honestly _Der, _I can't say this is even up to your usual standards." I said, glaring at him, though I am pretty sure the confetti on my face undermined the seriousness.

"Oh and you think getting a mini confetti canon is so easy?"

He laughed and walked back to a group of jocks who applauded and high-fived him on his 'grand idea'. Some days he made my blood boil. Still, I had to wonder why he spent all this time and energy putting together ways to torment me.

* * *

><p>Third period was when I gave my presentation in History. By then I had gotten practically all the confetti off of myself. I checked myself as I got up to get my diorama, which made Derek and a few other laugh all over again.<p>

"As you can see, this diagram of Ancient Egypt shows how-"

But I was interrupted by a loud bang.

Half the class screamed. Others were too shocked to move. They knew, we all new.

That wasn't the sound of someone getting shoved into a locker. It wasn't Gary emptying the dumpster or anything else we normally heard.

It was gunshot.

Mr. Riley, our History teacher ran to the door to see if the shooter was in the hallway.

"Oh god," was all he said.

At that moment you could hear a pin drop in the classroom. Everyone wanted to know what had happened.

"The shooter isn't out there," he opened the door. "Class, we need to get to a safe area. Follow me and do not look anywhere but forward."

The classroom started flying at the door, following Mr. Riley.

Inside I was moving with them, I was going to the safe area. But on the outside, in reality, I couldn't move. I just stood there. It was like I had lost all ability to move or speak. My vision was getting blurry and I was lightheaded.

"Casey!"

I was pulled back. Derek was in front of me shaking my shoulders violently.

"Casey come on! We have to go!"

"I…what…"

Derek put his arm around my shoulders in order to guide me out the door. Once we were out of the classroom, the rest of the classes had already left the building. The hallway was silent. Derek tried to keep me from looking to my right, but I needed to look. I saw a hand out of the corner of my eye. Black fingernails, a few rings.

There was a reason he was so adamant on not letting me see the body.

On the floor was a boy I knew. His eyes were full of fear, but empty of any life. One bullet, straight to the heart.

On the floor of my high school was a boy I knew. Splayed out like a doll in a pool of red.

On the floor of my high school, right outside my History classroom was Trevor, a boy I knew.

The next thing I remember is waking up in the school cafeteria.


End file.
